Chocolate Guinness Cupcakes

Jake's birthday. I turned twenty-five on November 22nd, which means I have officially been alive for a quarter century and have spent roughly a fifth of it making beer and learning to cook and trying to be the kind of man Babcia would be proud of. I don't know if I'm there yet. But I'm closer than I was at twenty, and that's enough for now.

Megan planned something. She won't tell me what. She picked me up from the brewery after my shift and drove to a restaurant in the Third Ward — a nice one, the kind with cloth napkins and a wine list and prices that made me nervous. She'd made a reservation. She ordered for both of us because she said I'd just get a burger and waste the ambiance. She was right. She got us a tasting menu — five courses, small plates, each one paired with a different drink. It was the fanciest meal I've ever eaten and I kept looking around to make sure no one was going to kick me out for wearing work boots.

The food was excellent. A beet salad with goat cheese that I would never have ordered but couldn't stop eating. A short rib that fell apart like it was apologizing. A chocolate dessert that was basically a science experiment. I told Megan I could make the short rib better. She said, "That's the most you thing you've ever said." She's not wrong.

Back at the apartment, she gave me a gift: a wooden recipe box, handmade, with my initials carved into the lid. Inside were dividers labeled by category — Babcia's Recipes, My Recipes, Megan's Recipes (this section was empty and she acknowledged this with zero shame). It was the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me. I put Babcia's recipe cards in it — the ones tied with a rubber band, spotted with grease stains — and they fit perfectly. Like the box was always supposed to hold them.

She also baked me a cake. Funfetti, from a box. It was lopsided. The frosting was uneven. I ate two slices. It was the best cake I've ever had.

I told Megan I could make the short rib better, and I stand by that — but the chocolate dessert at the end of that tasting menu is what I keep thinking about. It was dark, a little bitter, and tasted like someone understood that chocolate is better when it’s slightly dangerous. Guinness was the obvious move. I work in a brewery; I know what a good stout does to a baked good, and these cupcakes are my answer to that little science experiment on the plate: all the complexity of a restaurant dessert, no cloth napkins required.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 22 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 24 cupcakes

Ingredients

1 cup Guinness stout
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups granulated sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
3/4 teaspoon fine salt
2 large eggs, room temperature
2/3 cup full-fat sour cream
For the frosting:
8 oz cream cheese, softened
2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 350°F. Line two 12-cup muffin tins with paper liners and set aside.
Make the stout base. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine the Guinness and butter. Stir occasionally until the butter is fully melted. Remove from heat, add the cocoa powder, and whisk until smooth. Let cool for 10 minutes.
Mix dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt until evenly combined.
Combine wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs and sour cream together until smooth. Pour in the cooled Guinness-chocolate mixture and stir to combine.
Finish the batter. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and fold together with a spatula until just combined — a few streaks are fine. Do not overmix.
Fill and bake. Divide the batter evenly among the lined cups, filling each about 2/3 full. Bake for 20–22 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs. Cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
Make the frosting. Beat the softened cream cheese on medium speed until completely smooth, about 2 minutes. Add the powdered sugar and vanilla and beat until incorporated. With the mixer running, slowly drizzle in the heavy cream and beat until the frosting is fluffy and holds soft peaks, about 2–3 minutes more.
Frost and serve. Pipe or spread frosting onto the fully cooled cupcakes. The white frosting against the dark cake is the whole visual — don’t skip it. Serve at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Guinness Cupcakes — The Chocolate Dessert That Was Basically a Science Experiment